Gravity
by TheLondonTeaCozy
Summary: Renesme begins to navigate her junior year of high school. She comes to know that trials are divided into two essential categories: the typically petty and the persepective-alteringly dangerous. Not to mention, she causes quite a few problems for herself - because what decisions made by a seventeen year old end up all well and good? Newly updated, edited, and off-hiatus. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight; that is all Stephanie Meyer's doing. And I'm cool with it staying that way. I only own the plot and a few characters; nothing huge

Gravity: Prologue

"Renesme, can you come down here?" I blinked and ex'd out of the document I was editing. I kept thinking about running away, so I wouldn't be home-schooled anymore; my mother didn't understand the concept of "independence", and neither did my father on some occasions. If I was in one of Alice's books, I would've been an adult on week ago; on my 17th birthday.

I strolled down the front steps, collapsing into a chair. My mother and father sat on the love-seat opposite me. The windows were open, blowing cool, early-October breezes and bird-song into the cottage. I thought I knew why I was here.

"So," I sighed, "What do I have to read this year?" I assumed my list would include something like Tolstoy or Hemingway. My parents stayed silent.

"Actually, Renesme…" My mother started, "We were considering sending you to the high school for your last two years." My mouth dropped open.

"Are you serious?" I gasped, trying hard not to show my over-flowing excitement. My dad cracked a familiar crooked smile.

"Yes, your mother and I have decided you need a taste of the outside world," He joked, "This will be very different than going to Charlie's house or shopping in Port Angeles. You understand, don't you?"

"Yea-yea, but you're really letting me go?" My le was bouncing with contained celebration. Mom gave me a serious look.

"Renesme, you have to be responsible," She said slowly, "Your father and I think you are careful not to expose any secrets…" I nodded.

"Okay, don't expose the vampires to humanity, got-it." I spoke at top-speed, "Now, when do classes start?" My father stood and walked around the back of the love-seat.

"Well, classes start Monday, Renesme." He dropped a canvas messenger bag on my lap, "Consider this as an early birthday present." I jumped up, enveloping both my parents in hugs before racing off to my room to sort through the loot.

**Author Note: Hi, I'm back again! Hello Twilighters, my name is Carie; please don't kill me then eat my soul. I was entertaining this idea during a particularly boring tennis practice and thought I should put it to words (not to be all pun-y or anything). I do own Stephie's new book of answers to the Twilight series (there's even an answer to why Edward didn't flip when Bells go her period…TMI, anyone?) , but I'm not going to stick to every fact. If you want me to write the story, you may want to step outside of my personal bubble… Thank you for reading, rate and review…all that jazz **

**Let's see how this one goes,**

**Carie**


	2. 2 First Impressions

Chapter One: First Impressions

**Author Note: This scene takes place in the main house. I have Renesme with a room in the cottage and main house. Carlisle and Esme keeping up appearances, as usual!**

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!" I opened one eye.

"Alice, how can you be so happy at six-thirty on a Monday?" I grumbled, burrowing under my pillow. My aunt giggled, yanking my pillows and bedding off me and drawing the curtains wide. She danced back over to me.

"Renie, get up and put on the outfit I set out for you," She leaned in, her hair brushing my cheek, "I have a present for you, so…"

"That's my incentive, huh?" Alice nodded, "Fine, auntie-dear. You win…" I swung my legs over the edge as Alice twirled out of the room, shutting the door. Rubbing my eyes, I stumbled over to see what Alice wanted me to wear.

I dressed, did my makeup, and stuffed my laptop in my grey messenger. Alice usually had great presents, that mum usually didn't approve of; I haven't ever been disappointed. I shut my door, slipping on my boots.

"Where are you off to, Nessie?" I spun around.

"You know I hate being called that." I sighed, exasperated already. Mornings were not my thing. Jacob was leaning up against the wall, staring at me. My vampire-side had long ago rejected the imprint of the human-side. I loved Jacob, sure, but it was more like, "if you insist on staying, I'll tolerate it, okay". I don't think that qualifies as love, though.

He sauntered towards me.

"Oh, come on, Nessie; don't be that way." I rolled my eyes.

"Can we hurry this up? I need to be somewhere." I said impatiently.

"I just wanted to know where my girl is headed off to …" he said softly. My eyes narrowed slightly.

"Jacob, I'm going to make this super clear. I tolerate your existence because you insist on being a helicopter, but" I sighed, "I will never be 'your girl' and I hate you calling me the name I used when I couldn't pronounce R's."

"Fine; geez, you're touchy this morning…" Jacob backed off, hurt.

_Blame Miss Alice Sunshine-butterflies for that… _I thought smugly. Adjusting my bag, I turned and proceeded to the kitchen. Right when Alice decided to come find me.

"Renesme, what took you so long?" She exclaimed. I gave her a small smile.

"Sorry Alice, but I couldn't find everything…" I lied easily. My auntie threw her hands in the air.

"You need to become more organized if you want to survive school." Alice rushed back into the kitchen, muttering her grievances. Chuckling a bit, I followed her, but at a human pace.

_Renesme; would you care to explain what happened just now? _I jumped, looking around. My gaze settled on my father, reading on one of the couches.

_Well, that explains _that_. _I mused. _Dad, it's just Jacob being Jacob…Can we talk later?_

_ Are you going to be at the cottage tonight? _Dad flipped the page of his book. I began rummaging through my messenger, just in case Jacob was spying.

_Only if you want to talk, dad; I can do homework anywhere…_I kept going through pockets.

_Alright, but I want the truth and all of it; understand Renesme? _I held up a book, feigning triumph.

_Yes, dad; Love you and thanks…_

_ I love you too. Now go on before Alice loses her temper. _ Smirked and entered the strangely state-of-the-art kitchen.

* * *

><p>Alice had made me a breakfast of biscuits: two with butter and one with peanut butter, with strawberries on the side. I was experimenting with a literal vegetarian diet when I ate. I finished and was turning on my phone when Alice slid a Tiffany-blue box my way. I looked at her curiously, but tore the thing open regardless. On a bed of soft green fabric was a set of keys.<p>

"Alice, you're well aware that I have a car, yes?" I looked at her funny. "You know, the silver Ford Fiesta; ring any bells?" Alice laughed.

"Renie, those aren't car keys." I bit my lip. "You need to get going, so come on." Not sure what to expect, I followed Alice onto the front porch. I stood atop the wooden railing, watching Alice march out into the driveway.

"Jasper, bring her out please!" she called. Out of the garage, my uncle appeared, rolling something out. I nearly fell off my perch when it came into view.

Looking rather impressed with himself, Jasper stood with my mum's old Honda XL250 motorbike. He had totally redone it; stripping off the rusty-red colour and replacing it with a sleek dark purple. Alice stood on her tip-toes, jingling the keys in the air.

"Oh Renie, your chariot a-waits!" she sang, satisfied with my reaction. Coming back to earth, I jumped off the railing and ran over to Jasper and Alice.

"Mum is going to murder you two!" I smiled, my cheeks hurting.

"But there's one more present, dearie!" Alice grinned, "Do the honors, Jasper?" Smiling wide, my uncle handed me a navy blue helmet, a white leather jacket, and a pair of fingerless gloves.

"Jasp, Alice, I love it! Thanks a million!" I hugged them both. "And my parents only got me textbooks!" I joked.

"For shame, Edward!" Alice scoffed, "Now go on, Renie; and have fun, okay?" I promised them I would before jumping on my ride and zipping down highway 101 to Forks High School.

* * *

><p>Speeding into the high school parking lot, I turned into the first spot I found. That spot was, of course, the closest one to the door. I <em>had<em> a plan of trying to stay under the radar for as long as possible. However, now that I had every person (mostly guys) staring at me, I might as well make a good entrance. Turning off the engine, I startled the seat and whipped off my helmet, letting my hair fall over my shoulders. Stepping onto the sidewalk, I caught four boys staring at me from the bicycle rack. Sweeping my bangs off my face, I smirked and winked at them. Seeing a boy with black hair fall to the ground, I laughed and strode into the lobby.

Everyone in the half-full lobby was staring, and my mind chose _now_ to get self-conscious. Probably looking like a deer in headlights, I ducked into the main office and started digging through my bag.

_Damn it! Of all the things to forget! _I cursed myself.

"Excuse me," my head shot up, a pen hanging out of my mouth. The receptionist watched me curiously. "Do you need help?" Pulling the pen out, I nodded, feeling really stupid.

"It seems that I've forgotten my course paper at home," I smiled, approaching the desk. "I don't suppose you have another on file?" The receptionist looked flustered, but nostalgic at the same time. She had voluminous bottle-red hair and strange glasses; I felt like I had heard of her from someone…

"What's your name dear?" she asked, already nose-deep in her file cabinet.

"Renesme Cullen, ma'am." Pulling out a file, the receptionist watched me sign off on the new student roster my mum had told me about. Taking the clipboard, she examined me.

"Are you related to an Edward Cullen, by any chance?" the woman looked genuinely hopeful.

"Yea, he's my older brother." I said, exactly like Esme and I had practiced. "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen adopted me in April…"

"Well, we're you from sweetie?" she asked, handing me a print-out of my schedule. I lowered my eyes, pretending to stare at the paper; I was awful at saying the next part of this lie correctly.

"I was born in Indianapolis, but somehow ended up bouncing from every home from Chicago to San Francisco…" I looked up and smiled sheepishly. "Jasper found me because he was a student teacher during my freshman year." The receptionist smiled and I recognized who she was. Dad had been talking to Emmett a few days ago, curious if "that receptionist, the one who was so flirtatious" was still there. Question answered.

"I knew Edward and the rest while they were here…" She said, kind of reminiscently. It was borderline creepy, seeing as she fancied my dad back then.

"Well, have a good day!" I said, "And thank you!" I don't believe she heard me, so I turned and scampered down the hallway.

**Author Note:**

**Hey-a! Nice to meet you all; I'm Carie and I hope you're enjoying so far. I dropped this story back in August (in my notebooks), but decided to pick it up again this October! Sorry for some inconsistencies in the first couple of chapters: I changed the story's whole ship as well (from Ren/Nahuel to Ren/Alec), so I had to come up with a bunch of different scenarios.**

**Well, rate and review; and thanks! – Carie Lea**


	3. Questions for Questions

**Disclaimer: I do not own any single part of Twilight, and almost wish I did… strange.**

**Author Note: Just wanted to say thanks to all of you who are reading! I really appreciate the support. If you want any other way to contact me, other than messaging, just comment. Any questions, just ask. Thanks so much! Carie Lea**

Questions for Questions

"Locker 47…where is locker 47…" I mumbled to myself, walking down the hallway. Locker 47 was the last one on the row, crammed between locker 46 and the wall before the exit out to the rest of the school. The girl at number 46 regarded me with a quick once-over, glancing at the picture I had put up my family: Carlisle, Esme, Rose, Em, Alice, Jasp, mum, and dad. I looked at my schedule: English first with Mr. Berty. Placing my helmet and my books for classes 4, 5, and 6 in the locker, I tugged on the hat Alice got me for my birthday; it was a mouse with the cute little ears and everything!

"So, you're the girl on the bike." I looked over. The girl from 46 was leaning up against her door.

"Yea…" I gave a small smile, "Name's Ren, what's yours?" The girl was intimidating; from her Doc Martin's to her cropped dark brown hair. I probably looked like a wannabe to her with my fuzzy eyeliner and navy blue polish. She had genuine cool; I was the new girl.

"Sydney Barton," she smiled "So, Ren, are you a one-namer?" I smirked.

"Like Madonna or Cher?" Sydney nodded. "Oh, Hell no. I just don't use my last name…" I was waiting for Sydney to barrage me with questions, like the receptionist. Except, she looked thoughtful..

"What's your first class?" Sydney pulled on a striped sweatshirt, flinging a bag onto her shoulder. I closed my locker.

"Umm…English with Berty." I stammered, feeling little relief. Sydney nodded and held the door open.

"Alright, Ren; we can walk together."

On the way to the English building, Sydney asked me to fill her in on my life and she would do the same. She was born in Helena, Montana. Her mum and dad split when she was 8 and her dad moved to Philadelphia with his "stripper bunny" girlfriend (as Sydney put it). Her mum had taken the two of them to Seattle to meet her friend's 2nd cousin for a job interview. Sydney's mum and the cousin's brother hooked up, got married, and moved the family out to Forks. We had talked all the way to the building and sat together at the 4th desk from the back.

"So, Ren," Sydney began slyly. "You never explained why you're starting here at the end of October." I swallowed. Esme and I didn't rehearse this.

"Oh, uh…" I put on a shy act to cover my stuttering. "The adoption papers didn't transfer correctly until 2 weeks ago. Carlisle and Esme gave me last week to adjust." Sydney nodded; she was already aware that I was a Cullen. She had said that my last name would draw a lot of attention, which convinced me to keep up the "one-namer" act.

After my stunt with the motor-bike, I'd regret any more attention.

Sydney and I were still talking as we pulled out our books; about music and clothes and books. We only stopped when Mr. Berty gave us a look. Class started and I was pleasantly surprised when Mr. Berty did not acknowledge my newness. Really, the only people that did were listening and casting sideways glances. Two guys had seemed to have taken an interest in my and Sydney.

The first was a blonde with a muscular build. He was really eyeing the two of us up; kind of like the way Jacob does when mum puts up her shield. I was watching him on my computer screen while typing notes and my schedule. The other I was watching on the screen too. Her had black hair and a build like an artist; lean, but not incredibly muscular or too average. His eyes were darting from his notebook, to the chalkboard, to me. He was merely observing.

I took up a habit of looking at him out of the corner of my eye, still typing up all the notes. I didn't understand what "falling in love" was but, I had a feeling it had something to do with the fluttery-feeling in my stomach.

"SO, class," I jolted when Mr. Berty spoke again. "I would like a short story, dealing with traumatic experiences on my desk, Friday." He looked around the room. "Any questions?" not a hand raised; Berty nodded. "Class dismissed." In the small bout of chaos that erupted as Berty departed, I lost sight of the artistic boy. Partially because of the tidal wave of students; Partly because Sydney tugged me out the window.

Yes, we left via the side-window.

"What the Hell, Syd?" I gasped, dazed by the 8 foot drop. Sydney eyed me as I pulled her up. "What?"

"Is Syd my new nickname?" she asked.

"Ah-geez, I didn't realize." I bit my lip.

"I don't mind it." She replied quickly. "I'm calling you 'Ren', anyways. I don't suppose that's your full name." I smiled a bit, still chewing my lip.

"Are you psychic?" Syd looked at me mischievously.

"I suppose I am. Now, come on!" The next thing I knew, she was tugging me over to the science building.

When lunch came around, I found myself with a canister of Esme's soup and Dr. Pepper, staring at the artistic boy again, intently and not trying to hide it.

He was actually kind of cute.

"What'cha doing, Ren?" Syd asked, eyebrows raised.

"Do you know who this is?" I handed her my cell phone after snapping a picture.

"Stalker much?" she smirked in amusement. She studied the shot before passing it back to me. "Sorry, Ren, I don't. He's not a prep though…"

"And that's a… what?"

"Popular dorks are preps."

"Can't they be zombies and bitches?"

"Oh-ho, that's harsh, Ren!" Sydney laughed, "Why are you so interested in the guy anyway?"

"I dunno…" I answered. That was the honest truth, too. Something just seemed different about him, in a good way. He was miles different than the brainless jocks hitting on me earlier.

"If you really wanted to know, I could nick a yearbook from the library." Sydney offered getting up to leave. Glancing back at the boy, I bit my lip.

"Why don't you do that, Syd?" I replied softly.

"Great! I have a free period next, so now I have something to do!" She said excitedly , nearly bouncing. "Thanks Ren!" nodding, I walked to my locker. Off to maths, I guess…

Mr. Varner was late already 20 minutes late, not that this was a bad thing. Carlisle had insisted that I was put in AP classes. SO, I was on par with a college sophomore; that doesn't mean I want to pretend to work hard!

"Is anyone sitting here?" I looked up from my book. It was the guy that had fallen off the bike-rack. He was pointing to the desk in front of mine.

"I don't think so…" I said, smiling a bit. He smiled back.

"Great! Varner's usually late, but I don't want to be cutting it too close!" He laughed. "I'm Adam, by the way." He held out a hand.

"I'm Ren." I nodded, taking his hand. I was a little shocked; how many people shake hands now-a-days?

"That was some entrance this morning," Adam remarked, "I haven't seen an XL-250 in that good of a shape."

My eyes widened. "You like my bike?" I asked.

"Oh, Hell yes! It's a great ride, isn't it?" Adam watched me. "Where'd you get it?"

"My brother and sister got it for me for my birthday. But, it was my brother's; he collects that type of stuff."

"Oh man, really?" Adam asked, looking like a little kid in a toy-store. "I've been trying to get a look at one for years. Brian says it's an obsession, and maybe that's true… Hell, I still enjoy it!" I couldn't help but smile.

"Well, anytime you want a look, just ask." I offered. "I could show you my brother's Ducati 848, if you want." His mouth dropped open, totally surprise.

"You mean it?" I nodded. "You're awesome, you know that?"

"I try!" I smiled, completely kidding. Then someone called out that Varner didn't have classes for the rest of the day.

"Well, that's convenient!" Adam grinned. "Could I take a look at the end of the day?"

"Sure thing! I don't have to be home immediately anyway." His smile was infectous. I could totally be friends with Adam; he would rather stare at my bike than me, something I'd take any day! Adam scampered off to meet some people and I realized that I had an extra 35 minutes to my free period.

Time to go track down Syd.

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry this chapter was weirdly dis-jointed. I started writing one way and then switched it up; not good for me and my hyper-organizational skills.**

**Hope you all are enjoying nonetheless! Please, Alec comes in way later. That boy Ren's talking about is a much bigger issue; in a half-good way!**

**Carie Lea**


	4. Keep Playing Along

**Disclaimer: I own no part of Twilight… pity, isn't it?**

Chapter 3: Keep Playing Along

"Oh how I hate physics…" I muttered, sitting at the kitchen table in the cottage, books played out every-which-way. I was waiting for mum and dad to get back from hunting. I'd really wanted to go to, but Carlisle had insisted that I kept up a steady human diet to make me seem more normal. Peanut butter really wasn't cutting it, so I'd taken to nibbling at my hangnails.

"Renesme, we're back!" mum called.

"In the kitchen," I called back. Mum and dad appeared around the entrance. I smiled and quickly finished the last homework problem. Just because I'm good at solving for air resistance and the like does not mean that I enjoy it.

"Hello, sweets!" mum kissed my cheek. "How was school today?"

"Great, mum. I've got all your same teachers…" I replied, packing my things. "It's a tad bit weird."

"As long as you're enjoying the classes, dear." Mum shrugged, before going to change clothes. Dad sat down on the couch and watched me.

"Do you want to talk, Nessa?" he asked. I nodded and sat next to him. "What happened this morning?"

"Straight to the point as usual…" I sighed, closing my eyes and relaxing into the couch. "It's Jacob, dad. Please explain to me again why he still hangs around?"

"Jacob has taken the rejection differently than expected."

"But doesn't the imprinter want what the imprint wants?!" I exclaimed. The whole fiasco annoyed and aggravated me to no end.

"Nessa, honey, I share your feelings, but this is an extremely touchy subject with your mother." Dad stared at his hands, his copper hair falling into his eyes. "She just wants Jacob to be happy…"

"Couldn't he be happy with, I dunno, Leah?" I mumbled. To me, those two were a heaven-made match; and I knew Leah loved Jacob – she was my only girl friend for a good 16 years. Dad gave me a look.

"If Jacob wanted to, he could be." He replied simply, shrugging slightly. "Just relax, Nessa. It'll all work out."

"If you say so…" I sighed, heading to my room.

"Oh, and Renesme," I paused; Dad had picked up a book. "Be careful on that bike, okay." I couldn't help but smile.

By Wednesday, I had realized just how boring free-periods were without Sydney. Sure I had Adam to talk to, but he was usually out with his friends, doing God knows what. I had taken to wandering around the campus; today was the arts building. The classes were all in session, except for chorus. I drifted up to the doorway, hearing a light piano melody. Relaxing, I strode into the room, finding the player with his back towards me.

"That's a nice tune you've got there." I said softly when he had finished. He visibly stiffened and turned around.

"Do you play?" my eyes went wide; it was him. The boy that nobody knew.

"A li-little bit…" I replied, surprised that I was tripping over my words. "I'm more of a strings kind of person… I'm Ren Cullen, by the way." I mentally kicked myself for letting my last name slip.

"Cullen, huh?" He mulled it over. "Our family's are in a bit of business together, right?" I squinted, watching the tips of my sneakers.

"I'm sorry, but I'm lost…" He smirked.

"Don't worry about it; Marc Ashbury." I shook his hand when he held it out. Marc had shocking blue eyes, almost unreal looking.

"I'm sorry, I'm new to the family." I remarked.

Clarification: I had heard of the Ashburys. They were one of the wealthiest families in the area; about neck in neck with us. Mr. and Mrs. Ashbury had 3 sons and 2 daughters, from what I understood; Eric, William, Daniel, Heather, and Juliana. Each was in line to gain some a share in the immense fortune. I hadn't ever heard of a fourth son.

"So, you like music, Ren?" Marc asked. I nodded and he twisted back around on the bench, motioning for me to sit next to him. "Turn around; we're going to play a game, alright?"

"I have to guess the song?" I smirked, thinking I had this, easy.

"No, you have to sing along." Marc laughed, shuffling some papers. "Ready?" I nodded, closing my eyes and concentrated on the melody.

"Can't read my – can't read my – no, he can't read my poker face. She's got no one, nobody."

"Correct; next one."

"The songbirds are singing, like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you – like never before. Like never before…"

"Bingo. Third one."

"Wait – how many are you doing?"

"Only four; Can I start?"

"Go on … Goodbye, should be saying that to you, now why shouldn't I?" Laying down the law that I live by. I've gotta thick tongue, brimming with the words that go unsung; Simmered in a burn for someone, the wrong one."

"Great, now last one."

"Ooh, I love this song!" I said excitedly, jumping up and dancing around the room. "Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer! Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen! You've had a busy day today." Giving a final twirl, I dropped down onto the bench next to Marc, who was laughing just as I hard as I was.

"Alright, you win." He declared, his cheeks going red from lack of air. "What do you want?"

"For what?" I asked

"For your prize, silly." Marc laughed even harder when my mouth formed a small 'o'.

"20 questions." I bit my lip. "But not now…"

"Why not; it is a free period, Ren." Marc rolled his eyes. I copied him.

"No, I want to give you a list of questions and you can answer them and shove the paper back in my locker." I explained. "Does that make sense?" Marc just looked thoughtful.

"I'll agree to that, but on one condition." I nodded, still worrying my bottom lip. "That you'll play for me one day." Smiling softly, I agreed to the condition. Soon after, he grabbed his things and left. I followed only minutes after.

* * *

><p>Government was the worst class ever.<p>

It wasn't Jefferson, or the coursework, or even most of the students. It was just _those two_.

I had conveniently sat between the 2 biggest idiots on the planet on the first day, and was now stuck between them until the end of term. The first was Zach Worner, a stereotypical womanizer with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. His little friend was Terry Finche, who was just another dorky pervert that followed the soccer team around. They seem to run rampant in highschools. And trust me when I say Zach was a _dirty_ blonde. I swear to God, the boy sat and stared at my ass for so long on the first day, I'd begun to wonder if I was even wearing pants. The pair also loved coming up with and calling me new pet-names every day, along with painfully trying to cop a feel.

But that Wednesday, Zach had decided to try a new level of idiocy.

"Hey Ren, how you doin'?" he smiled haughtily. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, I was doing far better roughly 5 seconds ago," I sighed, plopping down in my chair. "Pity that backwards time-travel isn't possible yet."

"Totally," Terry grinned. The boy had utterly no personality. As I dug my books out of my bag, I saw Zach throw something. I was second guessing placing my pity on time travel.

"So anyway, I've decided something, Ren," I heard Zach say, trying to sound like less of a douche.

"And what would that be?" I asked, clearly showing how little I cared.

"I'm gonna call you Speed," he declared, obviously very proud of himself. "Clever isn't it?" I just gawked at him, trying not to burst out laughing, until I regained my composure; that took a while, needless to say.

"Y'know Zach," I began, sarcasm laced in my voice. "Let me be the first to tell you it is every girl's dream to be nicknamed for an hallucinogenic drug. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it as much as the next girl, but could we just stick to Ren?"

"Sure thing, hot stuff!" Terry piped up. Zach slammed his palm into his nose; unfortunately, no breakage occurred. I had to stifle a giggle at the clueless look on Terry's face.

"Gentlemen, would you please stop harassing the young lady?" Zach and Terry both jumped as Jefferson appeared at Zach's side.

In the pit of my stomach, I felt a small spark of hope for government class.

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry the update took a million and one years… yea, I got really caught up in my other stories. Anyway, I've also taken time to rewrite most of this one because it originally turned out with a very sucky ending. By ignoring this for, what-3 months now(?), I've virtually done you all a favor! I hoped you enjoy and hopefully a new update coming soon! – Carie Lea**


	5. 20 Questions

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight; Just the student population at FHS :3**

Chapter 4: 20 Questions

"Hey Ren, guess what?" Sydney was bouncing on her toes as we stood at our lockers.

"Okay, Syd, I'll play," I turned towards her, "What?" We were the only ones in that hall.

"It's Friday – Friday, gotta get down on Friday!" She sang, dancing and bouncing around the hallway awkwardly. "Ev'rybody's lookin' forward to the weekend!" Laughing, the two of us practically skipped to English class, still singing that god-awful song. When we arrived, Berty asked for everyone's short story and started class. We were watching Romeo and Juliet today, the same movie my parents had watched in this same classroom. It was an odd case odd of déjà vu.

While the thought of basically having a free period was tempting, Sydney and I chose the desk in front of the same 2 guys from the first day: Marc Ashbury, who only I'd talked to, and Brian Domeltine. All you need to know about Brian is simple: he had dark brown hair, brown eyes, was captain of the varsity soccer team, and was "bestest friends forever" with Zach Worner.

I'll leave you to guess where he stood in my book.

I didn't watch the movie; I stared out the window and listened to the Old English, while tracking rain running off the gutters. Suddenly, I felt my chair being pulled back. My head snapped backwards to see Brian, a Cheshire grin plastered across his face.

"Hello beautiful," after a week, he still had failed to learn my name. I go by 3 letters; why was this so difficult? "Mind if I snag your number?"

"You have about as much of a chance as a convicted felon, Domeltine," My eyes narrowed in his direction. "Would you kindly get off my case?" He let out a sigh and looked at me.

"Come on, babe. How can you turn me down while watching the most romantic love story of all time?"

"Simple – if I was Juliet and the choices were you or Paris, I'd choose Paris. If I was stuck with you as Romeo, I'd kill myself before the first act was over." I replied bitterly, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. "Now, bugger of, please."

"Aw, you can't do that – " He began before stopping abruptly. Sydney was leaning over the back of her chair, aiming a pencil point dead at one of his eyes.

"She can do what she wants, just like I can," she challenged in a grave tone. "Fuck off, Brian." Looking like her had just been hit by a taxi, Brian retreated to his seat and began scribbling in his notebook, a furious expression crossing his face. Glancing over my shoulder as I set my chair back down, I caught Marc with a well-hidden smirk.

* * *

><p>"Class," my head shot up from my desk. Monday mornings were not a good time for me. It was the end of English class and I probably didn't remember anything about the last half- hour. "Well, I thought you all would be more excited to get your creative pieces back." Everybody's eyes snapped up. I glanced over at Marc, who gave me a smile. His story was pretty hardcore, if I can speak from experience.<p>

Berty had passed almost every paper back before resuming his place at the front of the room. I felt a shot of anxiety go up through my spine.

"I've selected 2 papers, both of which were beyond extraordinary, both in word and tone," He smiled. The class cheered and he nodded. "This is titled, _The Picture_," Berty explained before continuing: "By our own Marc Ashbury," he said proudly, "Nice work, son," Then he strode back up front. I turned to Marc.

"You changed it?" I mouthed. He nodded warily, but I gave him a thumbs up. It was even better than the first edit.

"Now, this one is the shortest, but one of the best I've seen from a student in years," Berty cleared his throat. "It starts with a clamor and keeps it up, even though its only 2 full paragraphs in length; written by our newest member, Miss Renesme Cullen, _The Finest Line_,"

As Berty handed me my paper, I felt every set of eyes in the class fall on me as they had the first day. The first day, I realized that I came off as nearly begging for attention, but this was completely accidental. So my desktop was programmed to put my full name atop of each paper I typed up. This shouldn't be a reason for my cheeks to burn white-hot, to sink down in my chair or for whispers to begin over the heads of classmates like the perpetual rain outdoors. Now, I had a reason to hate school; and by extent, Forks.

And of course, Berty let us out early. So much for that class being the tamest one.

"You never said you were a Cullen!" A girl with a pinched face and sleek black hair, her name I think was Melanie, exclaimed. Another girl, this one with greasy looking bleached hair, grasped my arm in a pink-clawed hand, shouting at me the same phrase.

"You aren't very exciting for a Cullen, speed!" Worner laughed as I struggled against the sea of popular kids.

"Really, Worner?" I scoffed. "I never really took my family for the exciting sort," I rolled my eyes and kept pulling away, but they seemed to close in around me. It was like a dream where the walls begin to box you in, stifling your lungs until your head is about to burst and the claustrophobia nearly kills you. I longed for my little corner of the lunch room where I sat with Sydney every day; it was off to the side, in between 2 extra chairs no one ever touched. We sat on the floor and people watched.

_Go to the happy place, Ren. _I chanted in my head. _Don't answer and they'll go away, right?_

More questions flew at me and I tried my best to dodge them. However, one can only tolerate face-painted teenage girls asking if you will set them up with your uncles, and even father up with them. One girl even had the audacity to ask if I would hook her mother, a registered nurse, up with Carlisle. That one in particular made me throw up in my mouth. I closed my eyes and tried to block out every word.

When I opened my eyes, I was away from it all. Actually, I was out in the rain being pulled by Mark as we ran from the English building.

"What're you doing?" I gasped, realizing I hadn't been breathing. Mark glanced back at me quickly, the hint of a smirk on his face.

"I'm taking you back to my secret hide out for our game of 20 questions," He replied shortly. "you see, I hate people too," I snickered.

"Fine by me, Ashbury,"

"Okay, because this is on extremely short notice, I only have 5 questions off the top of my head,"

"Alrighty then… shoot," Hunter and I were in the prop closet. Apparently the choir room doubled as the acting classroom and green room for the theater program at Forks High. Conviently for us, Mark knew how to card the lock; I thought it was odd that he asked me for my student ID, but now it was brilliant.

"What's your family like?" I'd been wanting to ask this since he told me he was an Ashbury.

"Okay, so you've seen my parents at galas and all that other shit, right?" I nodded. "Well, that's how they are all the time; arrogant, prideful, air-headed snobs who walk around with rusty flagpoles jammed up their asses… My brothers are Eric, William, and Daniel and they can be real pricks sometimes. I affectionately refer to them as the poodles or Elena, Wilma, and Danny-dear from time to time… Heather and Juliana are sweethearts, really. Sure, they get on my nerves like tv show siblings do, but at least they're civil to me. I tend to avoid Heather because she's 14 and has raging hormones. I only ever see Juliana at holidays, which makes life a little better. It's a pain to always have to stick up for yourself, you know?"

Honestly, I didn't, but I nodded like I did. "Okay, forgive me for this next one, but why haven't I heard of you?"

"Oh, that's too easy, Ren!" Mark laughed, ruffling my hair and placing the hand around my shoulders. "My parents decided when I was 6 that there wasn't enough money in their collective 10 million dollar inheritance to include a bequest for me. I guess they also decided that if I didn't have an inheritance, I didn't have to attend all those pathetic charity parties they go to and hold every year. And that's all fine by me…"

From his bitter voice, I could tell that no, this wasn't fine by him. He sounded like he didn't even have a family. They obviously didn't need him, so he decided that he didn't need them. Mark seemed to know that he did need them, but refused to admit it. As much as my heart hurt over it in the coming days, I had to tell myself that it did figure up. My respect for Mark Ashbury swelled in that moment and would never deflate.

"Come on, Ren! Next question!" Mark said, sounding exhausted under his cheerfulness.

"Alright, umm… how many celebrities have you met?" I turned my head and his studied his expression.

"That's a good question," Mark laughed. He thought for a moment before turning to me again. "Simon Pegg, Adam Levine, and Mavis Staples… There are more, but I don't feel like digging through the mental file cabinet, Ren," I stared at the ceiling, chewing my lip. Mark laughed bitterly andran his fingers through his hair.

"Hmm…. What keeps you sane?" Mark glanced over at me, a sad-sort of smile.

"There are lots of things that keep me 'sane', Ren," Mark shrugged, returning to facing straight ahead. "The ones that work the best nowadays are the piano and scribbling in my notebook margins; J.S. Bach isn't bad either, but sometimes church music can get a little old, if you'll excuse the pun," Again, his blue eyes flashed over to my face, but only for a second; a look that begged "what about you?"

"The cello," I smiled, staring at the floor, "I don't play well, violin is more my thing, but I love the sound; melancholy and comforting… it calms the nerves," We fell into a silence. I knew he was just trying to keep my mind off of the new wave of interest in me; I was a Cullen, one of the fascinators, but not necessarily fascinating. They'd be hunting me all week unless I gave some answers; something I intended to avoid at all costs. Spouting the same story when you know it's a cleverly crafted hoax is tiresome at best, but can degrade to just plain aggravating when your attackers press for the fine details. If you make something up, you have to tell everyone else so you can keep the mask from slipping.

"Well, I'm done with your questions!" Mark declared after long minutes had past, jumping to his feet and offering his hand. Taking it, I stood up, allowing a questioning expression to slide onto my face. This seemed to make him happier; I think at that moment my mind decided that would be my goal during my time there; make Mark Ashbury just a little bit happier.

"I only got 4," I protested, a wide grin appearing. "And besides, you already got one answer! You, Mark Ashbury, are down to only 3 questions," I felt a surge of triumph as Mark calculated my reasoning and admitted that it was only fair.

"First, what's your favorite colour?" He asked with a child like flair. I rolled my eyes.

"Plum blossom pink," I answered, laughing at the evident confusion Mark was in. I had really just strung a few pretty words together; I had no favorite colour, but if I sadi that he'd pester me, I'm sure!

"Odd girl…" he murmured jokingly, "Alright, moving on! Why are you here, Ren?"

"Um, are you serious? You dragged me in here," Mark rolled his eyes.

"No, I meant, how did you end up in Forks?" He sighed. Nodding, I thought back to Esme's story.

"Jasper Hale, one of the Cullens' other adoptees works with a school in the Seattle suburbs. He's always had an interest in displaced kids, so he picked me up and got to talking about my life in foster care, what I remember of my parents, siblings, that kind of stuff," the lies just rolled off my tongue. It was disgusting how effortless it was and, for the first time, I felt guilty about it. Mark seemed to require the truth, but I couldn't give it to him. It wasn't my place.

"Continue," Mark said, shaking me out of my head. I felt his hands take mine, thumbs rubbing circles on the backs. I feigned a deep breath, like I was fighting tears or something ridiculous. Nausea dripped into my stomach and hatred boiled up at myself.

"Yea, he got in contact with Carlisle when I had breathing problems over the summer. Carlisle and Esme got to talking about adopting me because Jasper seemed so taken with me… their words, not mine," _Yea, really…_I thought bitterly. Mark smirked good-naturedly. "And at the end of August, they decided they wanted me to visit them out here and I absolutely loved it. So, in the first weeks of October the papers finally passed through. Some secretary screwed up the filing and so they had to fill out the forms 3 times… It was ridiculous, but I'm happier now. Jasper is even helping to look for some of my siblings…"

Mark was silent for a moment, considering it all. "Okay, last question… what do you want most in the world? Like, what would be your dream come true?" I nearly gagged; normally, people just don't think about stuff that deep. Well, at least not your average teenager, in America. I could've told him some sappy crap, like only wanting to see my family again or having a family and the American dream laid out for me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It didn't seem right, like the lies we all were guilty of spinning.

"That's a little too profound for you, Ashbury," I teased, getting a chuckle out of him. "But, I want to travel the world and learn everything about the cultures; the dance, food, clothing, music, history, everything! I know it sounds crazy, but I want to do this with a bicycle and make money playing my violin." That was pretty true actually. I'd been fantasizing about dropping everything and making a run for it. Like, bolting to the Seattle airport and buy a ticket anywhere just to get away. This was probably why mum and dad finally let me go to high school. Just biding time until the feeling passes.

"See, this is why I like you, Ren," Mark said, ruffling my curls. "You march to the beat of your own drum,"

"Well, I am pretty picky, so I probably wouldn't like to listen to other peoples' beats. Especially if it's any sort of elctro-pop synthy crap," I earned myself a good, long laugh before Mark turned to me again.

"Wanna play the guessing game again?"

"I said you only get 3 questions," I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Mark just rolled his eyes and tugged me back into the choir room.

We got absence demerits for every single class the rest of the day.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Hey guys! I'm sorry this took forever, but I'm currently re-mastering this one big hot-mess. And, please put down the knives and other weapons. Alec will appear soon; real soon. Pinkie-swear it :3**

**Anyway, you probably are wondering why I've introduced Mr. Ashbury and Miss. Barton. Well, that's going to be explained at some point. I will also re-introduce Jacob; which is the main point of the remastering job. Like, my notebook looks like someone wanted to use it for a collage because I cut so many thing out to LITERALLY cut and paste the story together.**

**I am all in to try to give you all a good story, so I hope I'm doing a decent job so far!**

**Carie Lea**


	6. Full Disclosure part 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own most of this. Definatley nothing you all are already familiar with; now that that's out of the way; on with the show.**

Chapter 6: Full Disclosure

That night, I noticed that everyone seemed a little on edge. What I mean is, I've never seen so many people in one room avoid looking at each other so well. Mum had slipped back into her habit of chewing the inside of her lip and messing with the skin around her nails; something we both did when we were nervous. I'd decided not to bring the observation up and went about my homework at the kitchen counter.

"Nessie, dear, can I speak with you for a minute?" My eyes shot up. Mum was leaning against the sink, examining me warily. Setting my pen down, I straightened up and gave her a reassuring smile. Maybe I'd get some sort of clue.

"Isn't it about time you had Rose look at your car?" I swallowed hard. Mum looked at me expectantly as I tried to come up with an answer. Okay, let's just say that I wasn't entirely truthful with my parents about the motorbike Jasper and Alice gave me, and dad hasn't been entirely truthful with mum about this either. So, I can safely blame dad for this, I guess.

"Didn't Rose check my car when I was with Sydney last weekend?" I answered, trying to act confused. However, mum saw through my response, which I'd been betting on not happening. See, I have this theory that mum's shield sometimes blocks out what is really going on. Like when I began avoiding Jacob like the plague, she took it as I was playing hard to get and proceeded to tell me how cute it was. But no, when it comes to something as insignificant as Rosalie making sure Sprinkles' tires rotate correctly, mum just might go postal.

"Renesme, just how have you been getting to school during the last 4 weeks?" Her eyes narrowed and I felt my face turn hot. I swear, I could hear Emmett laughing at me. Taking a deep breath, I knew there was no way out of this one.

"Uh, mum…remember your old XL250?" I stammered, avoiding eye-contact. I heard her "Mmmhmm" response and continued. "Yea, Jasper fixed it up for me as a sort of late birthday present and it works fine and -,"

"Ohmigod, those two…" Mum hissed under her breath before storming out of the kitchen, commanding me to stay put. I sunk down in my chair and cringed as I heard mum begin to jump down Jasper's throat until dad intervened. After a few minutes of them bickering over whether or not he should of told her, mum and dad swept back into the kitchen.

"Give me the keys," Mum demanded, holding her hand out. My jaw dropped.

"What? No way!" I exclaimed. "Dad, come on; talk some sense into her!" My dad eyed me and gave me the usually response.

"Renesme, listen to your mother," He gave me a small smile which made anger begin to rise in my cheeks. Mum still watched me, a disappointed expression that I'd only seen when she'd been on the phone with Nona Renee for more than 2 hours.

"Renesme Aria Cullen, I would appreciate it very much if you would give me the keys to your motorbike," Mum said, her voice an unsettling mix of stern, patient, and calm.

"Hell no! What do you have against me riding the bike anyway? It's not like you can say that I'm too young or I'm not being safe enough. I'm 17 mum and the thing turns on a dime, so just get down off your little pedestal so I can finish my damn history homework." I'd never said anything like that to my mum before and it felt good; liberating. The down-side being that mum and dad looked absolutely appalled, but it was worth it. I could feel it in my bones.

"Don't speak to me that way, young lady," Mum said in the same stomach-churning tone. "Now, please give me your keys," My father gave me a look and I sighed, pulling the jingling mass from my backpack pocket and dropping them into her awaiting palm. "Good, now I'm going to ask Rose to look at your car and then you'll be free to drive that. And, I don't ever want to hear words like that from you again, understand?" I nodded and she left, dad staying behind to ask me what I was working on.

Later that night, Rosalie came into my room to say that she needed to do some repairs on Sprinkles, my silver Fiesta. She wouldn't have it done until Saturday.

* * *

><p>"You've got to be kidding me," I mumbled slumping down in the passenger's seat of Sydney's green BMW Bug. I yanked the brim of my hat down over my eyes and tried to relax myself.<p>

"Geez, girl… First your car, now this…" Sydney commented, actually sounding no different than normal. "How do you get into these messes?" Huddled around my usual parking spot, at least 15 feet away, was Domeltine, Worner, Finch and a collage of other students. It seems as though my "new" last name being spelled c-u-l-l-e-n was not water under the bridge yet. In fact, I think the crowd had doubled overnight.

"I wish I knew, Syd," I sighed. We were silent as the car idled in her spot.

"Hey, Ren, wanna see if we can get away with parking in the teacher's lot?" I looked up at her and nodded. Most of the times, it was pretty nice to have a crafty friend like Sydney around to save the day when the popular kids decided to ambush you.

Reaching behind her, she threw her canvas jacket and bag on top of me. She told me it was to hide me from them, but I think she was just being a bit paranoid. Anyway, after we'd parked and I'd thanked my best friend for nearly suffocating me with her textbooks, we made a dash for our lockers. We were stopped by Mr. Jefferson once, only to ask why we'd parked back there, coincidentally next to him. He let us go with an understanding nod. The two of us stuffed our bags with everything we would need until lunch and ran for it again.

As we were running, I picked up 2 different scents. The first was the usual wet-dog smell that floated around our house when Jacob was around. It normally wouldn't have meant that much any other day, but I was not in my right mind, which immediately jumped to the conclusion that Jacob was following me around. If this was true, I did not appreciate it. Getting the truth out of him was different though. He wouldn't admit this, ever.

The second was foreign; very foreign. It was full of cinnamon and other spices; reminiscent of when Nona Esme and I make spice cookies for Charlie and the pack at Christmas. She has this killer recipe from her great-great-grandmother, who had married a German man and acquired an ultra-traditional spice cookie recipe. It's packed full of anise, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, vanilla, and even black pepper. That's what drifter through the air. But, it wasn't even close to Christmas yet, despite the commercials. My instinct screamed vampire, but I really couldn't be sure…

Since I was a kid, I'd been expanding my gift into other realms. Now, I could project memories, real and conjured, without touch. I could also implement the senses: flavor, pain, emotion, even smells. I could ask Dad or Carlisle later.

As I entered the English building on Sydney's heels, I could already tell today would be an exhaustiong day. The board read: No classes today or tomorrow! Enjoy the extra free periods! – Miss Emily (the secretary)

* * *

><p>The next couple of weeks had Sydney and I running to and from classes, hiding in various spots, and being pushed into inquisitional classmates with the sound appeal of a freight train. The clamor didn't stop even the week of Thanksgiving break; my Facebook and school inbox were jammed that my computer froze 7 times. Needless to say that I was very happy when Friday, December 20th rolled around; Winter holiday was starting and it was a half-day. I hadn't seen Hunter since he dragged me to the green-room again on Wednesday, effectively saving my skin, but I couldn't ask anyone. Nobody even knew who he was and I barely knew him myself, so what difference would it make?<p>

Well, I finally had my beloved Sprinkles-mobile back and Sydney and I were jetting it to the mall after last bell. She needed a birthday present for her mother and I was in the mood to pretend to be a normal teenaged-mall-rat, something Alice would never see.

"So, do you think I look absolutely fabulous, Syd?" I said in a nasally voice, stepping out of the dressing room. We were mostly spending our time trying on ridiculous outfits and taking pictures before actually buying the good stuff. A good laugh at the expense of others never hurt anybody, as far as we were concerned. I was currently squeezed (not really) into a body-hugging black skirt with a loose, slightly see through, blue top and neon orange pumps. The pumps I actually quite liked, but I couldn't abide the skirt.

"L.A. worthy, m'dear!" Sydney exclaimed, gesturing wildly as she stepped out of her room. She was decked out in a similar skirt (hers was a muted bronze), a black tank, and black pumps. She'd casually thrown her teal flannel shirt over the tank. She looked dynamite. "How about myself?"

"Y'know, if I couldn't see the outline of our underwear, I'd say we both look pretty stellar, Syd," I laughed, tugging the skirt down a tad. We stepped over to the mirror for a quick, super awkward photo-op, then returned to the rooms to try on the things we were serious about.

Syd came out in a chambray shirt dress, with a brown belt, and cowboy boots. She really was stunning; the caramel-tone in her skin defined and her choppy-cut hair messed up almost perfectly. I was wearing black slim pants, a black sequined tank, and muted gold pumps. I wouldn't normally pick something up like this, but it really caught my eye. We both squealed over our finds, took a picture and ran to the register.

It was almost 5 o'clock when Sydney realized she still needed to buy her mother a birthday present. Laughing over her gaff, we walked into a little bookstore called Indigo. While Sydney ran over to the food section, I meandered over to the new fiction; making faces at the cheap romances and the teen books about girls falling in love with monsters. Those ones in particular are very uncomfortable for me because I understand it all. Either that or I find all these "inaccuracies" and end up getting angry about it.

"You two were having a blast, now weren't you?" I sighed, frustrated, glancing up to see Domeltine disturbing my Zen moment.

"So, you creep around bookstores in your spare time, Brian?" I mused, flipping through the book before placing it back on the shelf. I leaned my back against the shelf, crossing my arms, and staring at him. "And you find it unusual that I can have fun,"

"Well, we wouldn't want people to get the wrong impression, Juliet," He approached me, a haughty expression glaringly obvious.

"Well, if you keep hanging around the stacks the way you are, you're more likely to end up on the neighborhood watch-list and not in any girl's contacts list," I sneered, honestly wondering why I was wasting my time engaging in this pointless conversation. As Brian got closer, there was a sick kind of satisfaction in his smile. When he placed his palm on my cheek, I swatted it away, shooting him a look that could kill.

"A little feisty today, Ren?" Domeltine chuckled. I felt my nose crinkle in disgust as I inched away from him. "But, in case I'm not making myself clear, you and miss Barton would make a lovely couple,"

"What exactly are you implying?" My eyes narrowed.

"Just keep that in mind, Ren," Domeltine replied in a mysterious voice. "See you around," Then he slipped out of the aisle. Petrified by my rapid-fire thoughts and anger, I couldn't move for a long time. I don't know how long; it was a moment that I was so caught up in what the hell had just happened that time couldn't squeeze itself into my brain. When I finally snapped out of the furious trance, I ran off to find Sydney, meaning to ask her about what he could've possibly meant.

When I found her, waiting at the front of the store, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

_Brian is just being an ass; nothing unusual there, _I told myself, slowing to a walk.

_Sure, but aren't you even the teensiest bit curious about what that whole couple thing meant? _A voice urged back.

_Of course I am, but I can't bring that up to Sydney! _I retorted.

_But, Brian mentioned her too and maybe she knows something you don't… Team work always works better, Ren, _The voice replied, tantalizing my actions with asking Sydney.

_No. Not now, at least. I've gotta think this stuff over so I don't piss her off if I decide to ask. It's a calculated kind of thing that you wouldn't understand!_

_ Meh… suit yourself, but don't let it turn around and bite you…_

_ That definitely will not happen. _I thought with an air finality. The voice disappeared after that and I rushed up to Sydney. Since it was 5 on the dot, we decided that we should just head back. It was getting dark and trying to find anything, my house especially, in the dark was a disaster waiting to happen.

* * *

><p>As I got in my car, a strong damp and furry scent flooded my senses. I hadn't been around that for at least a week. Jake and the rest of the pack were out patrolling the far end of the reservation and they'd all been exhausted since. Well, with the exception of Leah, who never runs out of energy, I swear. The girl is always doing something. Anyway, I happened to glance over to my right and saw Jake, sitting comfortably in Sprinkle's passenger seat.<p>

"How did you get in my car?" I demanded frantically. Jake grinned and tried to calm me down, but I leaned away.

"What gives, Nessie? It's just me," Jake teased, nudging my shoulder. I hissed, feeling my mood darken substantially.

"Exactly my point. Now, how the hell did you get into my car?" Jake gave me a lopsided smile that I used to think was funny as a kid, but certainly not now.

"I picked it, of course," He laughed. "Oh, come on, Nessie. Loosen up! It's not like I'm gonna hurt you or anything,"

"What are you doing in my car?" I demanded.

"Renesme, don't be that way. I-"

"Jake, I don't care. Just tell me what the hell you are doing in my car," I knew he had been following me around for a week or two, but he had kept his distance. Now, he even crossed that line. "And you better have a damned good reason,"

Jake sighed in exasperation, placing his face in his palms while bent over. His long black hair fell over his face like a curtain and draped his strong, bronze shoulders. He'd looked this way before, vulnerable, especially when I was younger. Over the years, I'd gradually realized it wasn't my fault half the time and began to stop feeling guilty if it was. Jake will always be some kind of friend to me, but not in his world. In his world, the imprint hadn't been broken and we were still destined for one another. The thought repulsed me more than I would ever let on, but only Dad knew. Mum couldn't handle that.

"There's a... vampire lurking around these parts. Lately, he's taken an interest in the high school," Jake admitted, not daring to glance back up. "He's not one of your family's type... not vegetarian, y'know? Anyway, I've been having to chase him off. Quill and Seth have been helping me this past week. The bloodsucker's pretty damn determined, for whatever reason,"

"And how long have you been doing this?" I asked calmly, hiding a wince. This would be the only way Jake could've had a need to hang about Forks, but not the house. I've been picking up on his scent for 3 weeks now, but I doubt it had anything to do with a vampire in the area.

"About 4 weeks..." I turned and stared at him, trying to search his face. He looked serious, but Jake could be a decent actor when he wanted to be; the bristling whenever he was around dad or Rose wasn't hard to miss.

"Y'know, it could just be a nomad," I answered dryly. My efforts to hold back my emotions left me nearly emotionless. Jake picked up on it, but he never said anything. Instead, he shot me a glare.

"Don't nomads usually run in groups?" Jake asked, a touch of victory to his words. I rolled my eyes.

"No, they generally prefer to be alone, but there are...exceptions," A thought formulated in my head; one that may prove 2 things about Jake to me. "You aren't thinking of James' coven, are you, Jake?" He shook his head a bit too quickly for my liking and the words just slipped out. You know those times right? The ones were you're so angry or sad or scared that you say anything that comes to mind?

"Jake, I'm not my mother. You don't have to protect me anymore,"

"Yes, I do, Renesme!" Jake exclaimed, bitterness boiling up. "You're my imprint and-"

"I don't know if anyone's told you Jake, but you are no longer my imprint!" I shouted, my anger at this whole bullshit mess overcoming me. "It's over, done, shattered, poor. Gone. Broken like Cinderella's fucking glass slipper!"

"But, Renesme, I-"

"Get out of my car, Jacob, or God help me, I will tear your head off right now," Glaring at ne from outside the wall of my hair, i heard Jacob mutter something about bitches then slam the car door, stalking off into the dark. I could see those idiots like Domeltine wandering up and rammed my foot against the gas pedal, speeding off down 101 like us Cullens are known for.

Speeding and heartsickness.

**Author's Note:**

**Hey there guys! I'm sorry this chapter was the longest ever (some 3-thousand words), but thank you for hanging in there! The next chapter should be coming by the end of the weekend and I hope you've enjoyed so far. There will be an answer to Brian's little question, but you don't really have to pay attention to it; doesn't affect the story majorly, just a simple fact of characterization!**

**Anyway, I'll let you go!**

**Carie Lea**


	7. Full Disclosure part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, but I do own what is about to happen and always will (you'll see; it's intentional).**

**OH! There is a bit of harsh language, but I don't think that'll deter anyone. But, if it does, I apologize and you can just skip ahead or whatever.**

Chapter 7: Full Disclosure (part II)

I stared at the chat-box on Facebook later that night. I was waiting for Sydney; to ask Sydney the questions that had been eating me all day: what did Brian mean at the mall earlier? Instead of an email, I decided to try for a chat session. I was nervously picking the skin by my nails as the first message popped up:

**not_australia: wassup Ren?**

**wildfire_girl06: not much… wbu?**

**not_australia: same here… video chat – yes**

**wildfire_girl06: yes, lets :3**

I leaned back in my chair and waited for the screen to pop up. In a matter of seconds, a rather flustered looking Sydney Barton appeared on my screen, her wavy-short hair ruffled and her square framed glasses glinted in her desk lamp. I smiled and waved, unashamed of my pajamas; grey shorts and a pale pink scrubs top I nicked from the hospital. Sydney was in her staple cut-up-tee and sweat pants garb. These late-night chats were not all that uncommon, see?

"So, what's on the agenda for this evening, Renny?" she smiled, sticking out her tongue quickly. I stuck mine out, giggling.

"Just wanted to ask you a question, Syd," The awkward was weighing down my mood again.

"Shoot, girlfriend," she said, trying to smooth down her hair. Her face clearly read: is this really what my hair looks like right now? I knew I looked equally as rumpled. As I opened my mouth, my nerves sparked up and I had to take a deep breath.

"I saw Domeltine in the mall today," I hesitated. Sydney glanced up, a smirk gracing her lips.

"Ah, and what did _High School Musical_ reject want now?"

"Nothing, just creeping… he did say something strange. It's been eating me all day, so I thought I'd ask…" Sydney nodded, and I took another breath to steady myself. "He said… he said that we would make and 'interesting couple'," I blurted out at a million miles an hour. I was amazed Sydney even caught a syllable. Her face paled, her whole face sobering up a bit. My stomach began to churn; I instantly felt horrible. Sydney glanced back over her shoulder, sighed, then turned back to the screen. It's hard to avoid someone's eyes in a video chat, but my best friend was doing pretty well at it.

"What do you want me to say, Ren?" she asked, playing with the jelly-bracelets on her wrist.

"Anything, girl… just kill the silence please," I swallowed hard and waited. Sydney was grappling with the chaos obviously swarming in her head. Finally, she looked at me.

"Well, it's not every day you tell your best friend that you're lesbian…" she whispered, still fiddling with the bracelets. She began to say something else, but her voice quivered and gave out. She tried to cover the tears and escaping sobs, but couldn't. I felt my heart sink because making Sydney upset was the last thing on my To-Do List. I hated seeing her upset, but knowing I brought up something that I didn't have to and made her upset… It was the worst feeling in the world.

"Sydney, please stop. I'm -,"

"If you want to go off and leave me alone, Ren," Sydney sobbed, "It's okay… I get it,"

"That's not what I was going to say, Sydney," I said, my voice unnaturally calm and sturdy. We stared at each other for the longest time, both stony-faced and uneasy about the next words. I exhaled, a breath I didn't remember taking, and smiled faintly. "I don't care, Sydney. I mean, it's nice to know and all, but having to tell a few tools to fuck off more than usual isn't gonna change anything. It just means I get say fuck more often," I blinked back a few tears as Sydney gazed on, stunned. It was like someone had tasered her; I actually expected her hair to stand on end. After a pregnant pause, my friend's eyes began dripping tears again, a reaction I hadn't anticipated.

"So, we're still cool?" She said feebly.

"Like we wouldn't be," I replied.

"You're amazing, you know that,"

"I try," I smiled. "But, Sydney, relax. Turn off that computer and start arranging our next escapade into Port Angeles, okay?" She nodded and waved before the screen flickered off. I did the same and reclined in my chair. For some reason, I began to tear up too. Shaking the feeling from my body, I ran to the bathroom to wash my face, nearly running into Carlisle. The cool water gave me a renewed sense of sanity and I decided to return to my room. But, as the door swung open, I found my grandfather waiting for me.

"Renesme, are you alright?" He asked in the voice he used when he knew more than he let on; the one to let it known that lying is impossible.

"Well, now I am," I shrugged, leaning up against the door frame, the ridges pushing between my shoulder blades uncomfortably.

"Now that you're on break, Alice suggested that you may want to come to the hospital with me a few times,"

"Can I put it down for my service requirements?"

"Of course,"

"Then, I'll be sure to tag along… maybe tomorrow," I already knew that Carlisle had something planned. I mean, he had mentioned Alice, which meant my pixie of an aunt had had a vision. After saying good night, I slipped back to my room and wracked my brain for any sort of clue.

* * *

><p>I was in the hospital for the 3rd time this week. Today, I was going to muck around in the woods, but Dad had convinced me to go with Carlisle again. Today, Carlisle had appointments in the emergency room, so at least there was good-people watching to be had. There wasn't much for me to do today, so I resorted to sitting in one of the chairs at the end of the hallway. I didn't object to it, but reading even the most interesting novel is hard with white noise. The smell of blood was rampant, over-powering the scent of Clorox. The ER was brimming with nurses, doctors, patients, family, and the candy-box assortment of medical goodies.<p>

Through the haze of people moving at top speed, there was one middle-aged couple that seemed to be in slow-motion. They looked exorbitantly wealthy and extremely self-entitled and standing right outside Carlisle's room.

As if I wouldn't investigate.

I guess a teenage girl in tight jeans, a purple v-neck tee, and jump boots could look a little off putting to some high and mighty wealthy suburbanites. Granted my family technically has their clocks cleaned, but only certain members had sticks up their arses (and she's always like that). The couple regarded me with a look that held a firm belief in the Upper Class; and I was nothing. But this is why misplaced lab coats are a blessing in disguise.

"If you would excuse me, sir… miss," I adjusted my shoulder bag and I looked them dead in the eye.

"What do you want, girl?" The woman sniffed. I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress the urge. I held up the white coat, rattling the badge a bit.

"Miss, I'm a registered nurse, and the doctor's daughter," I relayed, lying through my teeth. Neither of them moved; I pursed my lips. "I would appreciate it if you would step aside so I can help," With a hair toss, the woman moved and I entered the room; they followed, of course.

On the bed was a boy I recognized, but only barely. To anybody else, the boy would've only been roughly seventeen and delirious from the drugs in his state. Marc, pale as a ghost, shivering, with sweat clinging to his hair and cheeks in beads. Agony etched its way across his face, his blue eyes sewn shut. My heart ached as I tried to maintain my composure. Then the realization hit me like a bullet: Marc was dying in the hospital, and his parents couldn't have cared less.

Apparently they had more glamorous places to be.

Setting my bag on a chair, I slipped on the coat and switched out the real badge for my school ID. Only people who worked at the hospital would've noticed; in theory I could've passed as any number of people. Glancing over to the machines hooked to my friend's limbs, I steeled myself and approached the cabinets lining the walls. I knew some of the hospital rooms better than I knew the one I was living in at home. I grabbed 2 bottles – painkillers – and a needle.

Carlisle was trying to steady and maintain Marc's heartbeat and blood pressure, but it was quickly failing. I stepped to the other side of the bed, the pills rattling in their bottles. Slowly, I moved a strap across his forearm and bicep. Marc's eyes flew open, wild and scared like an animal about to be shot. They weren't the intuitive light blue eyes I remembered. No, they were dark blue and tense, but still retaining that special sort of clarity. They watched me, unable to recognize me.

"What're you doing?" He choked out to my surprise, his gasps laced in pain. I sat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair from his eyes.

"Relax, honey," I soothed, smiling softly. "I promise, you're going to be fine," The woman scoffed from the door and I swallowed a frown. I didn't know where the "honey" came from, but I put it out of my mind as I swept my hair into a bun. Gritting my teeth, I tightened the restrictive band around his arm until a vein bubbled up. Swallowing my nerves, I gritted my teeth and inserted the needle. Loosening the bad, I waited for some sort of reaction.

All I got was Marc tensing up, his breathing becoming pants and then gasps.

"Dad," I choked out. Carlisle's eyes snapped up, worry engraved in his features. "What should I do next?" He placed a mask over Marc's mouth.

"Try a stronger painkiller," He said gravely. "If that doesn't work, he's going to need surgery… I'll go see if there's one open," Glancing at me, his dark amber eyes telling me he could trust my judgment, Carlisle rushed out of the room with quick directions: "Keep him breathing, Nessa!"

As if my grandfather was psychic, Marc didn't respond to the strongest meds I was comfortable using. I tried a few other methods, but nothing worked. After a few minutes of developing grey hairs, Mrs. Ashbury sauntered up to the bedside. I kept down the bile rising in my throat as I turned to her. Arrogance hung over her in copious amounts, just like her nauseating perfume.

"Shame, isn't it dearie?" her voice was unnervingly uncompassionate. I looked at her, struggling to keep her son and my best friend from boiling to death.

"What's a shame, lady?" I asked crudely, earning myself a distinct glare from her husband. From their positions in the room, it was clear that the missus wore the pants on many occasions. She laughed harshly.

"The boy did this to himself, dear," Mrs. Ashbury paused, a sick happy-note to her voice. She was either very unstable or just plain-old mentally ill. "I simply can't imagine why…"

"I can," I muttered, snapping a cold compress and pressing it to Marc's forehead.

"What was that?" She asked pointedly, as if she hadn't heard me. I rolled my eyes. Keeping my hand on the compress, I stared at her in amazement. She had short cropped, ice-blonde hair and cold grey eyes. Figures; she was an ice-bitch, inside and out.

"Lady, I have an extremely low tolerance for bull shit, especially in the ER," I spat, politeness and control having left the room with Carlisle. "Especially from self-absorbed people such as yourself. Now tell me, what did he do to himself?" Smiling smugly, Mrs. Ashbury dropped a Ziploc baggie on Marc's legs and left, Mr. Ashbury trailing behind like a puppy. I picked up the bag and examined it.

I suddenly understood what Marc meant by, "A lot of things keep me sane, Ren,"

I stood with my back against the surgery room door, watching Carlisle work on my friend. Marc supposedly died a half-hour ago; I'd had to track down his parents to tell them. They had brushed me off with a "we'll donate his body to science" kind of response, then left. It made my blood boil just thinking about it.

In any other circumstance, Carlisle probably would've let Marc die. I, however, wouldn't let that happen. He was my best friend other than Sydney and, as selfish as this is going to sound, I needed him with me. I had begged Carlisle, who really doesn't give as easily as one would think. All I wanted was to make Marc happy, even if that would pose some problems. We'd have to re-cobble our story a bit to fit him in.

"We'll take him home in a few minutes, when my shift ends," Carlisle said, still checking over my friend.

"Are you going to pretend to take him to the morgue or something like that?" I asked in a monotone. My grandfather nodded and motioned me forward. Placing a hand on my shoulder, he stared me straight in the eyes.

"All I'm struggling with is why you want this," he spoke in a gentle, measured tone. I swallowed. "Just keep your motives in mind, Renesme," I gave him a weak smile and nodded.

"Yes, _avo_," I said, using the Italian word for grandfather. I liked it a lot better than the English, and he had taught me some of the language so it seemed fitting. Exhaling, Carlisle went to check the corridor. It was clear.

"You better get to crafting that story, dear," he whispered. "We're already suspicious enough as it is."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Hey everybody! Sorry it's been forever and a day since I've updated, but here it finally is! Chapter… what is now, 7? Yeah, it's 7… shows you just how clued in I am. So, to wrap this thing up: rate, review, send me a message; I don't care as long as you enjoyed the madness.**

**Things are going to get a lot more complicated from now on, okay?**

**Carie Lea**


	8. Nobody Said It Was Easy

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I don't think I could handle it!**

Chapter 8: Nobody Said It Was Easy

"Renesme, how could you have been so stupid, so selfish?" Rosalie shouted, waving her hands about frantically. She'd been going at it for a while, unnecessarily chewing me out while Carlisle was out of the room. He was putting Ma-, I mean, Hunter up in dad's old room. It was next to mine, a convenience when trying to keep an eye on somebody. I was close to tuning Rosalie out completely, but that was a task. She was just so loud. "Why would you ever ask this of your grandfather? It's the most ridiculous, useless, silly, insane thing you've ever asked for!"

"Alright Rose, I get it! You're pissed off because there's something else to look at other than you!" I snapped, gritting my teeth and making for the stairs. "I'm sure people in Scotland can hear your shouting," As the rest of my family watched me from the living room, Esme's eyes followed me as I stomped up the wooden steps. When I reached the top, she approached me and placed a slim hand on my shoulder.

"Honey, don't take Rose's words to heart," She smiled reassuringly. "We're all just in need of some readjusting time. It was a little… abrupt, even with your grandfather's warning," I nodded, flashing Esme weak smile.

"I understand, Nona," I sighed, chewing my lip. "It only makes sense," My grandmother gently patted my cheek.

"Your grandfather would like to see you in Hunter's room," Nodding a last time, I started down the hallway towards the room. Rosalie's voice stopped me cold as it echoed against the walls.

"How do you even know this kid, Nessa?" Rosalie was, clearly, still frustrated. "Anymore information, niecie?"

"He's the Ashbury's youngest son and went to school with Renesme," Esme replied softly, leaning over the banister. "It'd do you good to read the newspaper every once in a while, dear," Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I kept on walking, trailing my hand on the wall. I could hear Jasper snickering from his room as I passed; probably heard Esme's shot at Rosie. From what Carlisle had told me (which wasn't much, mind you) Hunter's burning process was going quicker than he'd anticipated. He said it reminded him of my first days alive, constantly changing.

My grandfather was sitting in a chair near the window, book in hand and reading glasses on the end of his nose, when I slipped in. With a quick wave, I moved to the side of the couch where my new sibling lay. He wasn't shaking or screaming, in fact he was completely still, his breathing barely there. Sitting down, I moved strand of hair off his forehead. I played with it for a while, making my obsessive-compulsive side content by smoothing it down. Alice had already had a field day shopping for Hunter, so I didn't wonder the drawers were filled.

"Interesting choice of name, pip," Carlisle spoke quietly. I didn't turn and I don't think he even looked up from his book. "Hunter… almost seems like a dead give away," he mused. I snickered a little; it was kind of ingenious.

"I did my half," I smirked. "Now, tell me your bit, avo," I picked up Hunter's hand and played with his fingers. Even for a boy, he was very pretty; features pale and soft, his mop of dark brown hair looked black against his skin. I imagine that he'd wake up with those startling red eyes that newborns are known for. And yet, I could still hear the dull thud of Hunter's heartbeat and the light puff of his breath, chest rising and falling.

"He's going to be you're older brother," Carlisle began with calm matter-of-factness. "When Jasper helped us find you in Los Angeles, your file contained the information that you had an older brother, but were separated at four years old in… well, you can decide that. You don't have much memory of him; never were much of a diary keeper and don't have any pictures from that time. Jasper spent the last couple of months tracing your foster care trail back to the place you two were split; took your brother's trail and ended up finding him in Greensboro, North Carolina,"

I let the story sink in before turning to my grandfather. "That's near perfect, avo. But, could you explain something to me?"

Carlisle smiled. "Does 'something' mean why Hunter have a heartbeat at this stage in his transformation?" I nodded. He stood and walked over to me, holding the book at his side with a finger keeping his place. "I haven't figured it out entirely, but I think we may have created a hybrid of sorts,"

"Of sorts?" I laughed. "Sorry, avo, but I thought being a hybrid was an all or nothing kind of thing,"

"I'm still working out the kinks, Nessa, be patient. At this point, I feel as though we just need to wait and see. He'll be waking up in the next day or so. Once that happens, I'll have access to the answers," Ruffling my hair, Carlisle told me he'd be in his study if I managed to come up with any more questions. I sat there for another ten minutes, letting that "tiny" revelation sink in.

Creating a hybrid without meaning to but by normal means was unheard of. Unheard of is an understatement. It hadn't ever been pondered. As a certain older movie character would proclaim, the whole situation was inconceivable. My mind ran over any possibilities how that could happen: blood type; the meds pumping through his system at the time were way more advanced than anything from my family's day; maybe the stuff Hunter had been popping had an effect.

After those ten minutes, my head pounded with the worst kind of headache. Flattening one last piece of Hunter's hair down, I left the room in search of an ibuprofen and a way to go back in time to keep from losing my other best friend.

* * *

><p><strong>[AN: hey folks! Bit of a change-up here; this is now from Hunter's POV. – Carie]**

When I opened my eyes (probably the first time in ages), Ren was sitting next to me, talking. She was talking to me. I could hear her clearly, see her crystal-clearly. The image was so vivid, I began to wonder if it was really Ren. My friend always turned heads, but I don't remember her being that striking.

The last thing my brain truly remembered was opening the hidden drawer in my desk, extracting the glass bottle, and my little sister Juliana screaming for my mother. Only Juli would've done that; she actually cared for me, seeing as she was the youngest of us all – the one who got the short end of the stick through no fault of her own. My parents, like the stereotypical perception of the elite, were the distant kind and only showed concerned when something threatened their personal state of affairs. They were very short-sighted, privileged, and pretty damn ungrateful. No wonder nobody liked them.

"The next few weeks are going to be really hard for you, Hunter, but you can handle it," She spoke so uninhibitedly, lightly. "You're stronger than most, a little more sturdy than other people. You'll be fine. My brand new brother is going to be perfectly fine,"

"Ren," my voice was dry and barely a whisper. "Why are you calling me Hunter?" Ren jumped off the couch onto the floor, hands clamped over her mouth and eyes bulging. A split second later, I was at her side, questioning how I had moved that fast.

"Mar - I mean, Hunter, can you sit back on the chaise?" Her voice shook as much as her legs did when she stood. "I'm going to go get Carlisle, alright? Please, just stay put for now," Next, Ren was zipping out the door, like Satan himself was on her tails. Her scent, sweet orange and clove, lingered on. Had she always smelled so, I dunno… delicious?

I didn't want to lie back down. I felt like I'd been asleep for years, but in that way only Monday mornings feel; foggy but still pulsing with energy. The room wasn't my own, so I decided to explore. One wall was nearly all windows and the opposite wall was all shelves, filled to absolute capacity. Books, vinyl, CDs, tapes all lined up like wooden soldiers on the glass covered cases. The whole room was neat and chrome-plated modern. A chink in the book cases led to a small hallway with 2 doors; one led to a walk-in closet and the other, the bathroom. I chose the bathroom, wandering up to the mirror.

I walked myself into an out of body experience. The cold feel of the glass solidified the vision for me, but it wasn't convincing. I looked dead, really, with my dark brown hair now a glaring black. My skin was washed out, drained of blood and ghostly. I expected my eyes to be black or a creepy red, but both were wrong. They were a weird navy blue colour, lighter around the pupils and darker toward the whites. Jabbing my fingers at my neck, desperately trying to uncover a pulse, I found a faint one by my jaw. I realized I hadn't been breathing much either. Of all the panicked thoughts and questions firing through my head, "what the hell?" captured it perfectly.

"Hunter!" Ren's voice called from the main room. Feeling like I half ran into the room, I rounded around the door. Ren stood there with a fairly young blonde man, dressed smartly in khaki slacks and a dark green pullover sweater. Ren was partially hiding behind him, in a pale blue dress that fell to her knees and had a sparkly collar. Her legs were covered in white, knit stockings. Something about the way Ren was standing made the man look shifty, like he is what made her uneasy. A hiss escaped my lips, which shocked me. I wasn't sure where the cat-like hiss resonated from, but I didn't like the reaction. Neither of them flinched. Instead, the blonde man stepped forward.

"Hunter, I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen and Nessa's grandfather," He gestured to the couch. "Please sit, then Nessa and I will explain everything," I hesitated at first, but when I glanced at Ren and saw her grin, the tension melted away.

"First, can I ask one thing?" The doctor nodded and I continued. "You said you're Ren's grandfather, but you don't look older than 30… how?" Suddenly, Ren flitted to my side and gently led me back to the couch by my hand.

"That's probably the first bit to explain. Sound good, avo?" Ren smiled at the doctor. She pushed me onto the couch, but sat on the coffee table. The doctor sat in an armchair to the left of the couch. I'd heard the name Carlisle Cullen from my father, so I wondered if he worked at the hospital; maybe as a psychiatrist, but probably not. I'd seen every damn head-shrinker in that place and never came across a Dr. Cullen.

"Alright, Hunter," he spoke in a professional way, but still relaxing. "Would you like the full lecture or small talk?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Hello everybody! Sorry it's taken me so flipping long to update. I'm taking Chemistry this summer and that's 5 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 5 weeks. It's a week in a day! Anywho, thank you so much for all of you who have been reading, liking, subscribing, commenting, and all around supporting this wacko endeavor of mine. Please, venture to the link in my profile for various other ways of contacting me, as well as a link to my Polyvore if you want to see Nessa's outfits.**

**Thanks again! **

**Carie**


	9. And So It Begins

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, never have and never will. Sorry if that disappoints anyone.**

**Author's Note: Hello all! I'm actually updating now, so I apologize for last chapter's crap ending and this chapter is how I'll make it up to you.**

Chapter 9: And So It Begins

I sat cross-legged on the table, listening to Carlisle while keeping a close eye on Hunter. He'd been taking everything so far very well. Seriously, learning that my family was a pack of vampires with the altogether average age of 900 or so didn't faze my friend in the slightest. Learning I was a 50/50 split wasn't at all interesting to Hunter. There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that there was a reason Hunter became one of my best friends.

"Our coven has made a point of living among humans, Hunter," I picked up for my grandfather. The words sounded foreign to my tongue, eloquent and experienced. "In order to keep this up, we've had to create a story; in fact, the one I told you when we first met. Now that you're here, we've had to craft another bit to tack onto the end,"

"And what's my place in this family?" Hunter asked quickly. I smiled easily and held out my hands. Slowly, he placed his palms on mine and I gave the fingers a squeeze.

"You're going to be my brother," I grinned, passing images of false memories through my skin and into his; pictures of us as kids, building a fantastic tree house, playing on swings, yelling at each other in our preteen years, even a flash of a made-up mum and dad for stories sake. "You, Hunter Mathaby-Cullen, are my older brother… only by one year, but older still,"

I released his fingers and leaned back, waiting for an answer. He seemed alright for a minute, adjusting to the idea of looking after me. His teeth ground together, his jaw muscles defining after a few moments. Slowly, I slid away and walked to Carlisle's side, taking measured breaths to keep my pulse down; just as Carlisle had ordered me to. Carlisle didn't make a move towards Hunter, but leaned forward.

"You should probably learn to hunt, seeing as you haven't 'eaten' in nearly four days," Carlisle motioned for Hunter to follow him, placing a hand on his shoulder as they left the room. "We'll take everyone along, so we can introduce you," Hunter looked back at me, leaning against the armchair.

"Are you coming, Ren?" He asked, eyes still that creep and unusual blue. I shook my head in reply.

"Not hungry today; d'you mind if I skip this outing?" I asked. Carlisle agreed and led Hunter out of the room. My brother shot me one last glance, a faint smile playing on his lips. I gave a small wave.

Carlisle had already deduced in the two hours since I'd gotten him that Hunter was a hybrid. Not a "normal" hybrid, like me (if there is such a thing), but even more hybridized. Something of an accident, but more like a genetic mutation. See, the state of Hunter's blood at the moment we decided to transform him was nearly boiling, so separated from what human blood normally was. Instead of the blood cells latching onto the venom, the dead cells reconverted into mutated blood cells while the undamaged rest latched to the venom.

I know it sounds a little strange, but Carlisle thinks it's perfectly probable. I guess it should be then…

* * *

><p>When I was sure everyone had left, I ran for the shower and spent a good 20 minutes under steaming hot water. Then I changed into some form of pajamas; a black tank and grey sweatpants with "Princeton" written down the side of one leg (nicked them from mum). Even though it was snowing outside, I let my hair air-dry. Grabbing my current book (<em>Sad Cypress<em> by Agatha Christie) and plugged my iPod into the TV. It was set to shuffle so my insane mix of indies, oldies, classics, and sparing-few modern songs echoed around the house. Hunting trips usually lasted for 3 hours because my family chose to go so far out of the way, but since they had a newbie on their hands I could expect almost 5 hours.

Somewhere between Letter From an Occupant and Miriam, I heard something move outside and the scent got stronger. Nothing close to the wet dog smell I was used to. It was vampire, but none of my family's scents. Whereas Alice or mum smelled flowery and citrus-y, the scent was full of cinnamon and maybe even pepper. I didn't pay attention to it until the doorbell rang. We usually never got visitors, especially at night. Tabbing my page, I padded down to the front door.

"Can I help you?" I asked to a boy my age. The spiced scent wafted off of him, cluing me in to who had been trailing me. No doubt everyone else had noticed, but I was wondering why they never mentioned it. Although, I was more focused on how handsome he was; dark brown hair, deep maroon eyes, and the customary pale skin. Dressed in black trousers and a button up the colour of Merlot, rolled to the elbows, I caught the glint of something golden around his neck. I was mesmerized and he knew, guessing from the smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

"It's been quite a long time, Renesme," he said, a light, warm accent in his voice. I already knew the attributes of vampires that were meant to capture the attention of prey, but even I fell for them. It was just too easy and I couldn't help myself. I didn't even question why he knew my name.

"Who are you?" I asked softly, opening the door wider and inviting him inside. He stepped over the threshold, closing the door and pressing my back against it. My heart rate jumped to at least a million miles an hour and his touch did nothing to help that. My pulse was almost painful and the sound seemed to make him smile.

"Come now, love," he whispered, pressing his lips to my neck. My legs nearly gave out, but he placed a hand on my waist to support me. "Even if you were only a baby at the time, you must remember me. It would be very hard not to," I wracked my memory for any remote clue. I remembered nearly every moment of my life, which was a little scary. Nearly nothing came up, excepts for the Volturi's nice visit. But J didn't see him as part of the Volturi.

"Really, I don't, sorry," I gasped, gripping his shoulder. The boy moved away, looking me straight in the eye. A small smile toyed at his lips and he ran a hand through my hair, tilting my face closer.

"That's a pity, love," his voice was smooth and sultry. The kind that made women swoon in dime-store romances. "One usually makes a point to remember my coven," Suddenly, fatigue overcame me, crashing onto me and crumpling my limbs under the weight. The boy lifted me effortlessly and began to walk back up the steps. My iPod had shifted over to my regular playlist; the very end of Seven Devils by Florence + the Machine was humming in my ears and it hit me. Who he was, it was so clear as he cradled my limp form against his chest.

Alec Volturi; and suddenly, he didn't seem so handsome anymore.

[ANOTHER POV SWITCH TO ALEC]

I placed the girl down on the couch. Classical strings music, the opera Carmen actually, had begun echoing from the stereos. I took the seat across from her and slowly released her from the fog's grasp. Renesme had grown up, but her loose shirt and baggy sweat pants didn't display it. Underneath the swaths of fabric was a curvaceous, warm body that I was itching to touch. I was a man who enjoyed company of beautiful women, which Renesme was.

The girl was more confused than I thought; her dazed, delayed shock told me that much. Her hair was tossed about in a way that mounted her sex appeal. Even the glassy, unaware look in her deep brown eyes added to the whole effect.

"Alright, what did you do with me?" She hissed, glaring daggers at me. "Out with it, Volturi!" I stared at her, a smirk forming across my lips. I crossed my legs and watched as discomfort seeped into her blazingly angry features.

"I'm glad to see you've remembered, Cullen. But, between you and me, I prefer Alec and you are a very easy target," She stood and marched over to me, crossing her arms.

"An easy target, am I?" She mused, looking pretty sure of herself, but the unease was beginning to creep through the haughty angles of her body. "I would expect you to know the difference between being caught off guard and being an easy shot," I laughed shortly.

"I can, Cullen. But let's give it another test, shall we?" I said, pulling her on my lap. Burrowing a hand in Renesme's curls, I began to work on her neck like before, almost tasting her blood in her skin. Renesme tensed, her breathing at a dead halt, and then she began to loosen up as I moved away from her. "See, you approached me, I-how you said- 'caught you off guard', and you are reacting..." Inhaling sharply, she pushed away from me and stared, disgusted. I couldn't help smiling even a bit.

Her chest heaved as time froze. She was now sprawled on the cushions next to me. I leaned away and made myself comfortable. I wasn't leaving until I spoke with Carlisle, but this visit was the apex of 2 month's worth of observation. In those months, I'd seen Renesme countless times, but only imagined having it this close. Tempting didn't cover it.

"Why are you here, Alec?" she stammered after 6 long minutes if silence.

"You've no doubt deduced that it isn't for your form, though it does have certain appeal," I chuckled as the disgust in her face increased. She looked like she couldn't figure out why. "No, I've come to speak with your grandfather about you. Trust me, none of the guard really wanted to venture over and check up on you every 3 years or so, but someone had to do it," my deliberately casual tone made her eyes widen.

"You've been watching me... for 17 years..." Renesme was totally shocked. Her mouth opened and closed many times before she finally settled on chewing on her lip.

"I take it no one told you," I grinned. This was almost too perfect. She thought she was independent and could handle the world on her own. Renesme was clueless, which really made my plan that much easier. "No wonder you're so surprised. Your dear parents struck a deal with Aro and the others when you were only weeks old. Basically, the Volturi was allowed to check up on you every once in a while to make sure you weren't a threat to our world. If it turned out you were, we have the right to eliminate you. Understand, princess?"

Like in a trance, Renesme nodded. Her balance seemed off and her breathing changed again; ragged and shallower than before. I let her grapple with the news for a few more minutes. Soon, she found her voice. "So, you saw... everything?"

I had exceptional luck today.

"Well, let me put it like this," I drawled, eyes grazing over her again. "I could smell the smoke a mile away, darling," Renesme let out a terrified sound.

"Please, don't hurt him," Her voice was cracking open. "He's completely safe and we're training him and… I'll do anything,"

"That's a bold move, my dear," I smirked, sliding closer to you. "If I was you, I would put anything on the line," To make my point clearer, I let my eyes trail her over her again. Another half-snarl escaped her lips. I grinned again, silently mocking her. "But, if you insist, I'll strike you a deal Renesme. You let me do what I want with you and I'll keep your newest member safe," I let he mull it over for a second.

"I give you free reign over everything?" she asked hesitantly. I nodded and she chewed her lips some more. "Can we keep this between us?"

"Absolutely," I reached out my hand and earned eye contact from the girl. "Do we have a deal, Renesme?" Exhaling sharply, she sat up and grasped my hand firmly.

"We have an agreement," And with that, she sealed her fate.

[RENESME]

I was going to murder Alec, once I got the chance that is. He'd just left with my grandfather for the study. The rest of my family sulked around the living room and kitchen. Hunter messed around with Jasper's acoustic guitar as I leaned up against the wall (we were sitting on the floor). Alec had immediately trained his eyes on Hunter once my family returned two hours after he arrived. While we were sitting around, Alec had insisted that he wanted to attend school with me and eventually Hunter, so as to inspect us closer. Of course, Esme being a gracious host offered the manipulative little weasel the room across from mine and to the right of Hunter's, which he happily accepted.

There was no getting rid of Alec. That much was set in stone.

**Author's Note: Just a quick message here. I felt bad for the last chapter, so here's more info on Hunter and the grand entrance of Alec. I hope you weren't cheated out of any excitement. I hope to hear from you all soon and updates will be coming! **

**Carie Lea**


	10. Good Intentions

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight; and I never will.**

**Author's note: I don't know if I've done this recently (or at all), but thanks to all of you who've supported this crazy endeavor and all of its tawdry quirks. I appreciate every bit of it, so please keep it coming! – Carie Lea**

Chapter Ten: Good Intent

After an hour, I couldn't take it anymore. Alice, Rose, and Mum were hammering me with questions while Esme explained a few things to Hunter. Jasper was out trying to stave off the inevitable headache (too many flailing emotions in the damn house) with a motorcycle ride. Dad had already dashed off to the cottage, for unknown reasons. So, being daughter like father, I took off into the woods the second mum took her hands off my shoulders.

Dad, of course, was nose-deep in a thick book when I stumbled into the living room of my now foreign-feeling home. He glanced over at me questioningly as I collapsed onto the couch. I've been told I have a flair for the dramatics. I wasn't really tired, but frustration exhausted me; so I was kind of tired. You could've heard a pin drop for what felt like five minutes. I had my face buried in a pillow, but could still hear the light rustle of the book pages as dad set it on the table.

"Honestly, I thought you would've been here earlier, Nessa," He said, clasping his hands together. I rolled over and sat up, brushing the hair out of my face.

"I dunno if you know or not, but mum has a grip like a vice," I joked. Chewing on my lip for a second, I tried to decide what to bring up first. Of course, dad already knew what I was thinking (it came in handy sometimes).

"Your mother didn't want to tell you," dad started slowly, keeping that eerily still eye contact. "You were young when the first visit came and it blindsided us. It had somehow slipped Alice's mind, but we made an agreement. You'd be observed from a distance; obviously that's just been broken. I apologize for the way this has been uncovered,"

"Okay, who'd you make the agreement with?" I asked.

"Alec," dad replied simply. "He's always been the one to come," For some reason, I felt like I was trapped in a movie where everyone takes shocking news shockingly well. I was out of sorts, in a state where everything was okay even when something had gone really wrong. I don't know how I wasn't constantly thinking about my own little deal, but I was glad I was. Dad would not have taken a liking to that.

"And how does Hunter mess this deal up?"

"I don't believe he does, apart from Alec's original boundaries being broken. Then again, Aro is erratic. It is impossible to totally predict his movements – go ask Alice,"

"Things could go wrong really fast; is that what you mean?" dad nodded, bending forward to prop his elbows on his knees. When he and I talked, he always seemed much older than his appearance, and not simply because he is. The three of us go out in public and I suddenly become a cousin, younger sister, a twin. These conversations never occur outside of the cottage, which makes them treasured.

"He's a good hunter, Nessa; your brother, I mean. He was thinking about his family while we were tracking and I think I see why you thought him deserving. Carlisle also thinks he may have a small ability; nothing much but it could get stronger," I could hear his discomfort plain as day. He didn't want it to be evident, but he's my father. I could pick up on it anywhere.

"What kind of ability?"

"Well, I should ask you, Nessa," Dad smiled. "Did you notice anything that Hunter was skilled at?" Dropping back onto the couch, I wracked my brain for the things I missed the first time around. Little stuff that doesn't seem all too important. I sat back up and shook my head; nothing came to mind.

"Can I stay here for the night?" I mumbled. Dad raised an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't you be able to?" He stared at me curiously. I shrugged, and began to my childhood bedroom. It was light pink with a really pretty handmade quilt on the small bed, and it happened to take up the entire attic because our house was one story. The décor was quaintly old fashioned: antique furniture, 19th century French fashion plates of women in fabulously bustled gowns, prints of rose studies from horticultural books, and warmly cabled throws.

"Good night, Nessa," dad called as I was shutting the door. I checked the window, but saw nothing. The only thing I pick up on was a wet dog smell, probably a mile out.

The next morning, I decided that I deserved more than one perspective on the predicament. Dad and I had walked back to the main house together and I'd gone upstairs to get dressed. Alec's room was conveniently across the hall from mine, so I didn't bother to knock before barging in. Not that it had a lock anyway…

"Privacy doesn't exist here, does it?" He smirked, his eyes still raking over me in that uncomfortable fashion. He threw on a shirt and I leaned up against the wall.

"You're living in one house with 10 people," I replied sarcastically. "You better get used to it," He laughed and moved towards me, sauntering almost. I felt my limbs stiffen out of habit.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," I rolled my eyes, but that didn't affect his smug expression. It seemed that the smirk was permanently plastered to his face. "To think I have to put up with this on a daily basis… are you always like this?" When I didn't give him an answer, he returned to the twin bed next to the window, sitting down.

"I only came to ask how this arrangement of ours is going to play out," I sighed, feeling an impatience bubbling up. His face sobered up and he motioned for me to sit next to him. Reluctantly, I wandered over. "I mean, we can't have them catching us because that would ruin it. So, what do you suggest?" I smiled, hoping that maybe I'd find a loophole; something that made these occurrences few and far-between.

"Now, isn't this nice?" Alec strayed off topic, brushing a few hairs off my face. I leaned away, giving him a shaky glare. He watched me closely, fingers trailing over my arms and playing with my bracelets. I couldn't help thinking that there was another week and a half until school started back up; then I'd have him tagging along. "Even with your nasty personality, you're still pretty tame,"

"Answer my question, then we'll discuss the logistics of my attitudes." I smiled again, the impatience replaced with annoyance. He smiled back; there was a hint of violence in it. Grabbing my wrist, he tugged me into the bathroom. Picking me up easily, he placed me on the counter.

"Now, we can make this as painless as possible for you, Renesme," Alec spoke softly, bringing his hands up to touch my neck. Pushing my hair away and pulling me closer, he whispered "So, let me have a taste," I swallowed hard, feeling his breath on my skin sent chills up my spine.

"One call?" I answered, sounding like a scared child.

"One call," he reaffirmed. I glanced towards the door, waiting for someone to call down the hallway for me. They didn't and I took a deep breath. "Don't be so proud, Renesme,"

"Make it quick," I relented, placing a steadying hand on Alec's shoulder. "or stop when I tell you to, understand?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," and with that Alec split the skin protecting my carotid artery. He moved one hand deeper into my hair and the other slid down to my waist. I draped my arms over his shoulder, loosely grabbing at his shirt. Despite Alec being latched to my throat and the potential for any one of my family members to walk in, I was more worried about any mark left over. Honestly, who wouldn't draw attention if they walked around with a scar shaped like someone's teeth imprints?

It was an off sensation, the pulling from under the skin. I actually think I may have gagged a few times. The feeling didn't last though; two minutes had passed and grey splotches were invading my vision. I gave Alec's dark brown hair a sharp tug and he pulled away, coughing. I slumped forward, my head resting on his shoulder, and my fingers shot up to the wound.

"Is it safe to say that you don't owe me anything right now?" I gasped. Alec pushed me away, smirk still intact.

"We'll never be on those terms, Renesme," Alec kept his eyes glued to mine even as I slipped off the counter. "Don't count on it, kid," Pulling my hair over the staunched cut, I steadied my breathing and gave him a bitter grin.

"Then I'll get out of your hair," He gave me a curt nod and I ran for the door, managing to dash into my room and clean myself up enough before Alice started banging at my door.

On December 24th, I was sitting on the table in Hunter's room, trying to pick his brain. Alec had left me alone in the two and a half days since our last run-in. Today, I'd decided to work on my brother's ability; at least help it surface. Hunter seemed convinced that he wasn't capable of anything, while Carlisle maintained that he was. So, I played mediator. We'd spent the past days reviewing the unwritten rule/guidebook of Hunter's new world and I'd even quizzed him a couple times.

"Come on, Hunter," Fingernails pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. He would not relax. "If you relax a little bit, I can figure out what's going on in that stubborn head of yours," Hunter sat in on the couch a few inches away, hands raking through his hair. He probably wanted to kill me because I sounded like a broken record.

"Ness, you sound like a shrink," He sighed, finally looking at me. I shifted; those dark blue eyes were still unsettling. I shook my head, and then stared at him.

"Since when am I 'Ness'?" I asked.

"Since I decided that Ren doesn't suit you anymore," Hunter gave me a grin. "It'll just have to grow on you, sis," I could see Hunter relax and held out my hands for the twentieth time that day. This time, Hunter finally took them.

"Good enough for me," I weighed his hands in mine before continuing. "Hunter, all I want you to do is concentrate on me. Concentrate on using your gift on me, alright," He nodded and closed his eyes. Out of habit, I did too. I began concentrating on the fake memories of us as children, to give him something to work with. When I rolled the memory of us shouting at one another from the bedroom doors, something shifted. My shoes turned from black to bright green and my hair was a bob-cut. Hunter's room was no longer next to mine, but across the hall and was wearing a sweater, not a tee shirt. My hands snapped away from Hunter's. I jumped up and started bouncing around, my scarf moving with me. My brother just watched me curiously from the couch.

"I knew you had a gift!" I exclaimed, trying to hold in my excitement. "I knew it! We need to celebrate!" I grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall. At the top of the stairs, Hunter jerked his hand back.

"We're celebrating?" He asked, clearly confused. I nodded and he considered this for a minutes. "Okay, Ness, how would you celebrate this odd occasion?"

"Hunter, I figure you should learn one more thing about me today, besides my unmatched persistence," I grinned. "When I'm happy, I bake," I nodded my head downstairs toward the kitchen, then slid down the banister; Hunter keeping up with me all the way. So that's how the rest of the afternoon was spent; baking macaroons and then concocting dinner.

A few things I learned about Hunter:

- Doesn't like chocolate (I planned to fix this with pie)

- Never read the New Yorker or the New York Times or Haper's.

- Never been to Europe, only Asia (I hadn't been to either).

- Only eats Oreos with peanut butter because of The Parent Trap

"What do you all do for Christmas?" Hunter asked as we ate pasta in the kitchen. He had the 'decency' to sit at the counter. I preferred to sit on the counter; get a good view of everything, especially since Alec was sitting in the living room reading. I let the tongs of my fork scrape across the bottom of the bowl as I lazily twirled the utensil. Apparently I didn't answer quickly enough because Hunter made a small noise in the back of his throat and I snapped back to attention.

"Christmas?" I paused, taking in a lung-full of air. "After I got past my toddler stage, the whole 'most wonderful time of the year' mentality wore off pretty quickly." My tongue let the t's and k's pop as I finished. Hunter stared on, positively wonderstruck by the idea. For someone that grew into a deep distrust of his family, Hunter sure had peculiar emotions about a family-oriented holiday.

"Then what's with the cross in the hallway upstairs? I got the feeling that you all were probably religious," Hunter swallowed, watching me closely. My gaze flickered back to Alec for a second. I shook my head, mentally scolding myself for worrying about the nonsense proposition now – I couldn't have Hunter thinking assuming anything outside of fear. Forcing myself away from the inner soliloquy I had going, I hoped off the counter. I moved to where my brother sat, dropping into the seat next to him.

"It's Carlisle's… I'll tell you about it later," I dismissed it with a toss of my wrist. "Back to the holidays; if you had anything in mind, we could do it together. I have my car privileges back."

"My father insisted that we attend church, and then have something like a family dinner…" He trailed off as his mind began wandering back in time. His features softened, but without trace of sadness. I placed a hand on his knee, hoping consolation for whatever was distressing would pass through the touch. Slowly exhaling, Hunter continued: "I used to dread it, but… Would you hold it against me if I said that I want to try it again, with you?"

I shook my head, proffering a simple smile to prove my meaning. "We'll do anything you like. It could just be the two of us, if you like. I promise the rest aren't as bad as they seem right now, so if you want any of them to come, just ask."

And that was how I found myself sitting in the pews of a Catholic church on Christmas Eve with one of my grandmother's veils pinned to my hair. Hunter sat to one side of me, clutching my hand, while Carlisle read through an old bible with head bowed. I didn't speak Latin – still don't speak Latin – so I hadn't a chance of understanding what was going on; instead, I stared at the glowing stained glass windows. The one that captured my attention the longest was that of the Virgin Mary – somber facial expression, but brilliantly shaded in royal golds, reds, greens, and blues. Once I had read a religiously motivated book. Whoever the author was described in great, almost explicit, detail the feeling of judgement and rapture. Exhilaration, adrenaline and shame were supposed to course through the body, setting each nerve ending ablaze as the feeling passed. It was a sensation that altered when your fate was decided upon: a soft, engulfing warmth at the pearly gates, a numbing for purgatory, and a hellish, consuming wildfire if Hell was your destination. Sitting under the imagined scrutiny of Mary, I couldn't help feeling tingling beneath my skin. It wasn't the rapture, but it was inescapable and dread-inducing.

Nemesis was studying me at that very moment, I absolutely new it.

**Author's Note:**

**Hey look – I updated! In all seriousness, I have been trying to finish this chapter in hopes of getting the idea-ball rolling again, but nothing has worked. I've gotten distracted by the BBC… But, who hasn't these days? Especially at my school, where everyone has some bit of memorabilia from a Con proclaiming their fandom – Whovian, Sherlockian, Broadchurcher, &c. I have, though, been developing other stories in this absence. Hopefully (if school doesn't wring out all my free time first – touch wood), I will be able to bring them to you :D**

**Thank you all for your continued readership during my ever-extended hiatus. Life happens and it's incredibly encouraging to know that these little experiments are being embraced by real people. I genuinely appreciate it all. **

**Chapter 11 by Chirstmas, my lovelies – I promise!**

**Carie Lea**


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